August 2024 – PIZZA FOR BREAKFAST

Earlier this month, I was diligently working at my desk when my husband of 12 years phoned. “How about we go to Navy Pier this weekend?” David suggested. “It’s Chicago Navy Week and the USS Constitution is going to be there!” he announced excitedly.

The USS Constitution — a/k/a Old Ironsides — is a U.S. Navy ship built in the late 1700s. As the oldest commissioned warship afloat, its current home is in Boston Harbor.

This ship has special meaning for both of us, since it’s where my husband proposed to me… right there on the deck of the huge vessel. So, naturally, his suggestion sounded sweet and romantic.

Still, I was a wee bit skeptical. “Is the USS Constitution still seaworthy?” I asked him. After all, Old Ironsides was built in the late 18th century!

“Yeah, it’s all good!” he promised.

How could I say No, when he was so full of enthusiasm?

Unfortunately, I felt a bit lazy about going downtown…

What kind of wife am I? To be honest, I didn’t relish going back downtown on a Saturday after a full week of commuting to Chicago from our suburban home. The drudgery of the train, the traffic, the people, the motorized scooters, etc., etc. You get my drift.

Still, I said YES to him. Just like I did when he proposed back in 2011.

“Let’s take the Metra train downtown,” I suggested. Since my husband adores trains, I thought it would be nice for him to finally ride the Metra — it would be a first for him and let him experience the hustle and bustle of commuting on the train.

We decided to take the BNSF Metra line, which has a train leaving each hour toward downtown. Since neither of us were familiar with BNSF’s Cicero Avenue train station, we looked for a pedestrian cross in order to wait on the south end (city-bound) platform. Strangely, we found no signs pointing us in the right direction and there was no way for us to cross over.

“Sometimes they come in on the opposite track, especially on the weekends,” I explained. “Let’s just wait here since there’s no where else to go.”

And so we waited, donned in sunhats and doused with plenty of sunscreen. My husband was fired up about taking the commute, and we eagerly waited on the lone bench at the station.

We heard the train’s whistle as it approached the station. Once it passed the blind curve, however, we were in shock to see the train was using the opposite tracks. As there was absolutely no pathway in sight, we couldn’t figure out how we had made this incredible mistake!

And so we stayed glued to that bench, watching as the train heading east into the city approached on the southern track.

I felt so stupid! And embarrassed. “What the heck do we do now?” I cried.

“We’ll simply wait for the next train,” David said good naturedly. “It’s only another hour. Hey, what else were we going to do today?”

“Uggghhh!” was my only response.

After the train went on its merry way, we walked the perimeter, once more searching for a way to the south platform. Eventually, we found a small ramp, leading toward Cicero Avenue. From there, we walked about 1/4 of a block and came upon a pedestrian tunnel. It was this very tunnel that led to the other side of the station. Well, there you go!

Fast forward to the city…

Eventually, we found ourselves downtown at Union Station. By this time, it was close to 11AM. From there, we couldn’t decide whether to take the CTA shuttle to Navy Pier, or simply walk along the River Walk. It was a lovely day, so we decided on the latter, since we were both up for a walk.

Except my knees weren’t happy with my decision. It’s been a rough year for them, having endured my second knee replacement last winter. Recovery has been sluggish and painful.

Still, we walked over a mile and made it to Columbus Drive, just west of Navy Pier. By now, my mood had gone downhill and I had enough. “Let’s take a taxi from here,” Dave suggested.

“I’m not moving from this corner!” I cried. “Anyway, there’s no taxis to be found.”

Luckily, we spotted the CTA bus stop for the shuttle to Navy Pier. You know the one I’m speaking of… the one we could have easily grabbed 45 minutes earlier just across the street from Union Station. We decided to wait for the bus.

My knees weren’t budging and neither was I. We waited another 20 minutes for that crowded bus and gladly got on, each hanging onto the overhead straps since it was standing room only.

It’s now 1:00 PM and we’re finally at Navy Pier

Except we’re really not there yet. The traffic into the pier was horrendous. It took another 12 minutes for our bus driver to maneuver her way through the throngs of vehicles, all headed in the same direction. After all, it was the same day as Chicago’s Air and Water Show, which always brings thousands of people to the city for this astonishing event.

Once we were off the CTA bus, we walked (I limped) the length of Navy Pier, all the way to its eastern most tip. That’s where the ships were alleged to be on this bright sunny day. Except for one important thing…

There were no ships to be found.

“Where’s the U.S. Constitution?” my husband wondered out loud.

I wondered some things myself, except this is a PG-rated post and I aim to keep it that way.

By this time, the sweat beads were rolling down our faces due to high humidity, causing the sunscreen to burn our eyes.

“I’m sitting right here on this stoop,” I announced to him. Both my knees were shouting out in pain. On top of that, my big toe hurt. I sat on my shawl, not wanting to burn my bottom, crossed my arms and plainly showed my disappointment. Oy veh, what a day for me!

“Well, we can at least stay for the air show,” proclaimed my patient husband.

And to that, we did. We watched a stupendous show from the U.S. Navy pilots, as they swooped across the city, showcasing its skyline.

They roared directly over our heads, dangerously close to the brick tower of Navy Pier. The pilots made breathtaking moves across the water, supplying their audience with exceptional prowess and tremendous courage.

Now you see ’em… now you don’t!!

After the show ended, we found a kiosk selling — of all things — Lobster Rolls! I regret to say that day’s sandwich was nothing like the tasty and oh-so-wonderful fresh lobster roll we shared back in 2011 near Old Ironsides in Boston.

I won’t bore you with the rest of our commute home, but I can say we were much more successful on the way back. We took the CTA shuttle back to Union Station and unexpectedly ran into David’s brother and his galpal. From there, we shared a four-seater on the train and shared details from our excursions into the city.

Forgive my finger covering the lens. Bonus points for the port-a-john in the background.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to see the U.S.S. Constitution,” my dear husband apologized later.

“Don’t worry,” I reassured him. “The best part of the day was that you wanted us to tour the ship where we got engaged. It’s a very romantic gesture on your part. And that’s what I appreciate the most.”

By the way, I also appreciated a cold draught at the end of the day.

So, really, who’s complaining?

Certainly not I!

Update: We eventually learned the “crew” of the USS Constitution was in town that week… not the actual ship… LOL

Thank you for reading – PIZZA FOR BREAKFAST

I attended Chicago Public high school and quickly became acclimated to riding the CTA bus each morning to my classes. It was about a 3-block walk to the bus stop, where I waited for clearance in traffic before I ran across Western Avenue to my bus stop. (Even though a long-standing Illinois law calls for vehicles to stop for pedestrians, that usually doesn’t occur.)

I took the 49A bus, heading further south down Western Avenue. At 111th street, I transferred to the 112 Vincennes, which dropped us students right across the street from Morgan Park High School.

However, I remained unskilled at navigating CTA El trains. I can still recall one of my first CTA elevated train rides.

The year was 1979 and my mother decided it was high time to show my older sister and me how to get ourselves downtown if needed. We lived on the far southwest side of the city, where we walked several blocks down to catch the 103rd bus, which would take us east to Vincennes, and eventually take our trio to the 95th street bus station, where it sat atop the Dan Ryan expressway.

Back then, we called it the “Dan Ryan El”

We followed our mother dutifully, as we rode the El on that hot summer’s day before my sophomore year of high school began. Mom showed us how to bring exact change for the bus fare — the driver gave no change. That sign was apparent (and still is) on all CTA buses. El chofer NO tiene cambino.

“Sun visors. Incense. Double belts,” a 20-something-year-old vendor walked through the CTA cars, hawking his wares. His voice was low, calm and deliberate — his sales delivery was perfected. His hips seemed to move in sync with his words, as he worked his way through the cars, trying to spy an interested customer.

Sun visors. Incense. Double belts… he repeated, over and over.

His products were easy to spot. A myriad of PVC transparent sun visors ran along his left arm — a virtual rainbow of color selections.

His opposite arm displayed several double belts — the oh-so popular accessory with us gals during that zeitgeist. We wore them with our jeans and t-shirts, to highlight our waists and our sense of style.

Lastly, the vendor displayed a profusion of incense sticks, which he wore in a suede pouch about his neck. It seemed as if he had quite a collection of scents to choose from. He strode through each car, hawking his products to the CTA riders on the Red Line – patiently waiting for anyone to make a purchase. Nice and easy, no pressure whatsoever from him.

This vendor didn’t need a license to sell his products — at least, licensing wasn’t exactly enforced. Then, it was simply part of the ambience of riding the El train to and from downtown Chicago.

I kept my 14-year-old eyes on the traveling merchant, as he continued through the connecting train cars. This type of off-the-cuff peddling was new to me. Quickly, I was impressed with the young man’s efforts… making some ca$h for himself… in whatever way he could.

We arrived downtown, at the Adams Street stop. Taking the steep staircase down to Wabash, we walked one block toward State Street, turning north toward Madison Street. There, Mom took us to Wieboldt’s Department Store, where she bought each of us a pair of knee-high vinyl boots which we could wear to school.

We thought we were somethin’ in those boots. For Christmas that year, I received a pair of boot socks, with a fuzzy top cuff, which I creatively folded over the top of my boots. With that final touch, I was clearly rockin’ it as a tenth grader.

After leaving Wieboldt’s, we followed Mom once more like dutiful ducklings — back to the El stop on Adams, where she pointed out the opposite staircase in order to return back home once more.

It was steamy and sultry that afternoon. Our El car was an oven, with the A/C completely out of order. One rider took it upon himself to open the rear exit door to let in a blast of outside air. It was still sweltering — but at least we passengers felt a bit of relief.

I watched for more vendors, just in case the double-belts guy came through again. I even had some ca$h of my own, in case I wanted to treat myself.

But the fella never returned.

The three of us rode that El train in silence, sweaty and tired while we each tightly held onto our shopping bags. Heading south toward 95th Street, we’d then transferred to the 103 Bus, which would take us close to home.

That was a warm, muggy afternoon, that somehow I’ve never forgotten, thanks to my mom…

to Wieboldt’s Department Store…

and to the peddler with captivating sun visors, incense and double belts.

Thank you for reading – PIZZA FOR BREAKFAST

Month: August 2024

And That’s How We Ended Up At Chicago’s Air+ Water Show

Sun Visors, Incense, Double Belts…